


Beneath the Opera House

by OperaGoose



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Phantom of the Opera Fusion, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-21 15:57:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20696177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OperaGoose/pseuds/OperaGoose
Summary: The Fenestala Opera Company has a new pair of Artistic Directors, and a new Production Company- the Lucii Arts. They begin the new season with a production of L'Oracle, starring a new overnight sensation with a friend in the shadows.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Comes back out of nowhere with a fusion nobody wanted. Enjoy friends!

“As some of you are aware,” began the current manager of the Opera Fenestala, “in recent times our opera has undergone financial difficulty. At a recent meeting of the board, it was decided that in order to bring success back to Fenestala, a new Artistic Director must be appointed.” 

Murmurs washed over the seats like a wave across the shore. Sweeping over and washing away again, leaving the sand settled - however temporarily. 

(Not that he’d ever been to a beach.) 

Professor Verstael Besithia waited until there was silence, then spoke again: “It has been my honour to be Director of Fenestala for the past twenty years - and I shall continue on as a member of the board. However, let me introduce your new dual Artistic Directors: Mr Loqi Tummelt and Dr Ravus Nox Flauret.” 

There was a polite wash of applause as the new directors took the stage. Loqi strutting like a proud peacock, Dr Flauret cool and disinterested as if this was all above his notice. 

“Thank you, thank you,” Loqi called smugly, as if he was a prima donna collecting a standing ovation. “We are deeply honoured to take over from the great Professor Besithia, and announce the new artistic direction for our opera house.” 

_Our_ opera house. How arrogant. 

“In conjunction with our new production company, Lucii Arts, we will be striving to push opera into a more open, modern direction, while still honouring the traditions of the classics.” 

Another wave of murmurs across the seated company. After all - what exactly did _that_ nonsense mean? 

“Lucii Arts is providing a professional localization team to translate and modernise some of the world’s most revered operas for a fresh audience,” Dr Flauret elaborated to his partner’s statement. 

Well. _That_ could be interesting. 

“All existing contracts for our ballet and choral performers will be retained - however every new production will require an audition for character roles. Closed auditions exclusive to any member of the Fenestala Opera Company, of course, but anybody may audition for whichever role they desire.” 

Well, well, well. This _did_ have potential after all. 

“Auditions for Chalemeau’s L’Oracle begin on Friday. Audition applications and score selections are available on this,” Loqi paused, “OG application, shared storage thing.” 

Perfect. He would get to work. It was time to put a long-term plan into motion. 

~*~ 


	2. The Auditions

"I keep telling you, Luna," her friend Iris was saying to her, "this is your chance. You should audition for a soloist role!"

Luna Freya, the name she was known as to the company, shook her head. Smiled. "You know how things work in this company, Iris. You have to do your time to get recognized."

"Things are changing, Luna!" Iris insisted.

From the orchestra pit, Loqi called "next!"

Luna watched as Libertus Ostium (who always played The Hero) stepped up. "Libertus, auditioning for the King of Light."

A murmur, what looked like judgemental eyes roving over Lib's figure. Oh well, that would all vanish when they heard him sing.

"You may begin," Ravus announced.

Sad to return to find the land we love  
Threatened once more by Solheim's far-reaching grasp  
Tomorrow we shall break the chains of those  
Tonight, rejoice! Your army has come home...

"Anyway," Luna whispered, "you know what they'd say if I suddenly became a soloist." She glanced significantly where Ravus was sitting, taking notes.

Iris rolled her eyes. "Nepotism is the name of the game, Luna. Why not use it?"

She just shook her head. No, her time would come. Her Angel would let her know when it was time.

"Thank you Mr Ostium," Ravus said. "That concludes the list of audition for the King of Light."

"Any last minute brave souls?" Loqi asked.

"Tummelt, really, the audition schedule has already been -"

"Bah, Ravus!" The Other manager interrupted. "Not everyone was present when we mentioned it was open to all the company.”

Ravus sighed, and she knew he was already tired of dealing with his co-manager's antics. "Very well. Any last minute applicants?" A moment, then he nodded smugly. "Very well. Onto the auditions for Aera, the Oracle."

"First up, the great Aranea Highwind," Loqi announced eagerly.

He fawned over her, and Luna rolled her eyes at this. As if anything was going to change.

Aranea was a talented singer. Nobody could doubt that. She'd been the female lead in almost every production at the Fenestala for nineteen years. But...

She was an opera Prima Donna, and she acted the part. It was beneath her to interact with anyone other than a lead performer or management. anybody else was merely in her way, and she treated them no better than a cockroach crossing her path. She had been the face of Fenestala since she was nineteen years old - and every year held the board in her palm as she negotiated a pay raise to continue on with their company.

But she _was _a fantastic singer.

For her audition, she stood in the spotlight as if she never belonged anywhere else.

  
Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye  
Remember me every so often, promise me you'll try.  
On that day, that not so distant day  
When you are far away and free  
If you ever find a momentStop and think of me...

If there was anything that Luna would fault - and it was a very personal preference - it would be the overblown way Aranea sang. She'd been trained in the classic school, to fill the acoustics of an opera house with her voice alone. Luna, who hadn't technically graduated from a formal school at all, favoured a more naturalistic style of vocal performance - one that was available now due to the technology available for theatres.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled, and she found herself raising her eyes to a very particular box in the darkened theatre.

Think of me, think of me warmly when -

Aranea's audition was cut abruptly short by startled screams and the loud cacophony of a dozen backdrops crashing onto the stage one after another.

"Ms Highwiind!" Loqi shouted in a panic. He rushed up from the orchestra pit to her side.

She swept her hair out of her face. "I'm okay," she said irritably, knocking his hands away before he could touch her.

"Who is responsible for this?" Loqi demanded.

Nyx Ulric, one of the stagehands, cleared his throat. "Cid Sophiar is the Fly-Master, sir."

"Well someone bring him down here immediately!"

There was some fuss, but then eventually the managers had their tablets open and were video-conferencing with Cid.

"Well, don't look at me!" He spat, irritable as always. "It;s my day off. Ain't you checked the damn logs?" He hung up the phone.

The two of them looked at each other. Then Loqi said: "yes. Check the logs. We can do that."

Hiding an amused smile, Nyx came over to help them locate the logs for stage management.

Iris curled closer to Lua, pointing at her tablet screen. 

Scheduled Testing - Fly Deployment. 1-12. Authorized. Administration/OG. 

"The Phantom of the Opera!" Iris whisered, giggling.

Luna gently rolled her eyes and pushed the screen away.

"Such insolence!" Loqi hissed. "So unprofessional!"

"Sir," Nyx said, doing his best not to smirk. "If you look at this section of your tablet, you can see that you’ve got a couple of notifications. " He helped Loqi open up his inbox. "See, here's a notice from Admin about the scheduled test, a note of welcome from the admin team to you both to the Fenestala Opera House. And a reminder that the App Development and Maintenance Fee will be due on the first."

"Maintenance fee," Ravus scoffed in distaste.

And then Loqi spat: "twenty thousand gil?"

"Opera General is the most advanced theatre tech in the business." This came from Gladio Amicitia, the Stage Manager. "Every member of the Opera Company and the theatre staff has a device. All of the systems in the theatre run from the app."

"And who are you?" Loqi grumbled.

"Gladio Amicitia, landlord and Stage Manager," he grunted.

Loqi sniffed. Ravus was only marginally more polite. "So you would be this Administrator dropping flys on our singers' heads?"

"No," Gladio denied flatly. "Admin for the app is run by the app maintenance leader. Not my department."

Loqi looked as if he were about to argue, but Ravus sniffed in distaste and headed back to his seat. "As long as there are no more ridiculous incidents, we can resume our auditions." He sat and gave Aranea an expectant look. "You may continue."

Aranea's nostrils flared, and many of the people around the theatre winced in expectation of one of her famous put downs. But it was startled out of her when the flys that had dropped shot up towards the walk again.

Loqi gave her a sympathetic look. "We've heard enough of your talents, Ms Highwind. Interruptions - well these things do happen."

Oh no... Luna thought, covering her eyes from the disaster that was coming.

"These things do happen?" She repeated, outraged. "You've been here for five minutes, what do you know!" She swept her fringe out of her eyes and stared him down. "Yes 'these things' happen - all the time! To me! For the last four years, these 'things' have happened - and it's always because of this damned Opera General app! A technical glitch or misplaced positions or unscheduled maintenance...!” She whirled on Gladio. "And you've never even attempted to intervene with these App Administrators you love so much!"

His only response was an unimpressed look, which he turned on the new managers as if to say, _not my department. You deal with this_.

"Take the rest of the week off, Ms Highwind," Loqi pandered. "Paid vacation time. You've had a terrible fright today."

She gave an offended _Hmph!_ but allowed Loqi to lead her off-stage. When the younger manager finally resumed his seat, Ravus barked: "next!"

There was an awkward pause, nobody seemed to move - as if waiting for someone else to do so.

"Come on, don't be shy. There i no more scheduled maintenance going on today," Loqi encouraged.

Another long wait. Then Ravus snapped: "this is **ridiculous**. Loqi, bring up the list."

The younger fumbled with his tablet, and called: "Luna Freya."

She froze in utter shock. Had he just said her name?

Similarly, Ravus tensed and cold eyes darted around the room. To find her.

Loqi scowled, and called louder: "Luna Freya."

Luna jolted when she felt a nudge against her back.

"Here!" Iris called. "She's coming now!"

Nervous, she stepped forward. One foot in front of another until she was squinting in the bright spotlight.

"Luna Freya," Ravus greeted, his lips pursed in severe disapproval.

"Formerly of the chorus line," Loqi read from the tablet in his hand. "Not even a soloist?" He peered up at her. "Well. Which Conservatorium did you attend?"

She bowed her head, always hating that question. "None sir."

"Speak up!" Ravus barked. In that moment, he sounded exactly like their father.

She raised her face. "None, sir."

"None?" Loqi asked, affronted. At her nod, "well, fine. What university? Qualifications? Formal Training?"

She raised her chin just a little more. "None, sir. I've had private tutors."

His expression looked as if she had directly insulted him. Turning to Ravus, he began a private consultation.

She nodded to the pianist to begin the intro.

It wasn't even loud enough to drown them out. "She is not even qualified!"

"We are meant to look like were letting everyone try out," Ravus pointed out.

It was nerve-wracking, but she began the song uncertainly.

Think of me, think of me fondly when we've said goodbye...

"I guess he is rather pretty," Loqi muttered.

Remember me, once in a while  
Please promise me you'll try.

"A solo role maybe?" Ravus said back.

There was a flash of light from the light box at the back of the theatre - and she realised. This was the sign from her Angel. With a quick thumbs up from Iris, she took a deeper breath and then really gave her best.

When you find that once again you long  
To take your heart back and be free  
If you ever find a moment,  
Stop and think of me.

Loqi was outright gaping. She even caught a hint of tears in her brother's eyes.

Emboldened, she stepped forward fully into the light.


	3. Chapter Two: The Gala

Noct owed Ignis his life, a thousand times over. He considered him a brother in all but blood. And it was surprising, but Ignis felt the same. 

His Father had always been careful to teach him to be aware of his privilege. The people around him every day were overwhelmingly employees. Paid to be nice to his face, but more often than not would resent him behind his back. 

When his Nanny, whom he loved like the Mother he'd never got to have, abandoned him in the car seat of a flaming, overturned car, he had learned that message bone-deep. 

He'd met Ignis when he was still partially wheelchair-bound. After returning from Tennebrae, upset and still not fully recovered. Stu Scientia was on his Father's board and had volunteered his nephew forward to <del>keep Noct out of trouble</del> help catch Noct up with all the school work he had missed. Ignis wasn't exactly nice to him. Not like Nanny had been, nor all the other sons of his Father's board members who he had scheduled 'play dates' with. Maybe that's why Noct was drawn to him. 

Ignis was polite, of course - unfailingly polite. But he never took Noct's shit, or pandered to the tantrums that were frequent in that period of time. 

He continued on long after Noct was back to straight-A's, eventually becoming his bodyguard and personal driver. And then there had been The Accident. Ignis had saved his life and, in turn, been badly scarred and blinded. 

There was no way he was going to repay that with turning him out. Noct had paid for all his medical costs and moved him into a room in his own house. 

That had been a year ago. Ignis had adjusted to his new lifestyle - but in one of his more depressive episodes, had admitted to Noct that there were things he could no longer enjoy. Reading a good book, his trips to the ballet, art galleries. They still went to the Opera together - but Noct hated reading the subtitles and, without the staging, much of the meaning was lost. "It is just pretty music, and I can enjoy that by turning on the radio." 

So a few months ago, Noct had taken a proposal to his Father. Lucii Arts had engaged an established opera company in financial dire straits and nudged them in a new direction. It may not end up working in the long term, but for now Ignis could at least enjoy something that had been lost to him. 

If Ignis could properly cry, Noct suspected he would be. 

Early on, Ignis had whispered: "who is singing Aera? That wasn't Aranea Highwind?" 

"It's someone new," Noct answered. "I'll buy a program during the intermission." 

But there hadn't been time. As soon as intermission had began, they had been occupied by the two new Artistic Managers. Tummelt fawned and flattered over Noct, and then congratulated themselves on a job well-done. (Ravus pretended they’d never met and spent the whole time silent and unimpressed.) 

"Well, Act 3. I’m positive everyone will be blown away," Tummelt smirked smugly. 

"We'd best get back to our box," Ravus declared. 

Once alone, Ignis commented: "well, that was unpleasant." 

The entr’acte swelled, and then "the curtains rose on a desolate version of the Oracle's Temple. Aera stood limply, leaning on the ceremonial trident. Her previously pristine white dress now stained at the front in scarlet." He whispered the scent to Ignis, who nodded. He was familiar with this opera. 

Her voice, as she began singing was soft and longing. Pretty sounding. Kinda sad, since she was dying and all. Bur there was something so familiar about her. Behind a gauzy screen, a pale blue light lit up a ghostly figure of the Prince of Light smiling adoringly. The singer stepped towards him, standing taller and suddenly her voice soared. 

  
We never said our love was evergreen  
Or as unchanging as the sea  
But if you happen to remember, stop and think of me...  


The light shifted on her and it suddenly clicked. He felt his mouth hanging open. 

  
Think of August when the world was green  
Don't think about the things which might have been…  
Think of me, think of me waking silent and resigned  
Imagine me, trying too hard to put you out from my mind  
Recall those days, look back on all those times  
Not of the things we’ll never do  
There will never be a day when I won’t think of you...  


Could it...could it really be Luna? Lunafreya Nox Fleuret? 

How many years had it been? At least a dozen. When he's been in rehab in Tennebrae, and she'd been soft and kind and patient with him. 

He fumbled to take his phone out, earning a sharp frown from Ignis. It was on silent though, so he didn't feel too bad about using it. Task done, he tucked the phone away and refocused on Luna, singing on the stage. 

  
Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade  
They have their seasons, so do we  
But please promise me that sometimes you will think -  


And then in an impressive vocal trill that made Ignis actually gasp, the soprano finished. 

He barely remembered to whisper to ignis as "the stage darkens to a single spotlight that narrows on Aera's upturned face, smiling, before it fades." 

The rush of performing was all-consuming. It was almost as if she could feel her pulse rushing around her body. It was so very wonderful. 

Luna was walking through the quieter hallways, trying to avoid the crowds of the opening night celebration going on. At least until she could wind down enough to socialise with a crowd. 

She felt the gentle buzz of her phone in her hoodie pocket, a pattern familiar to her. She slid it out, opened the OG app and clicked into messages. 

  
(Unknown)  
Brava, brava, bravissima...  


Smiling to herself, she tucked it back into her pocket. 

"Luna." 

She jumped in fright at the sudden appearance of her friend in front of her. "Iris, you scared me!" 

"I've been looking for you everywhere," Iris said, falling into step beside her. "Hiding?" 

"Just winding down," she answered, giving her friend a brief smile. "You know I've never been one for the big afterparty things." 

"You always do find some way to sneak off," her friend agreed. She leaned close and hugged Luna’s arms. "You did wonderful, Lu." 

She smiled, leaning against her friend. "Thank you, Iris. I enjoyed it far more than I thought I would." 

Eventually, Iris led her back to the dressing room. "Get changed and head home. I'll tell everyone you've already gone home." 

"You're an angel." 

Smiling, she headed into the little powder room to change. 


	4. Below

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna go ahead and dedicate this chapter to PumpkinSoldier, who was looking forward to the Angel of Music scene. Enjoy~!

"I do believe we've made quite a discovery with Miss Freya," Loqi said, as if he'd taught Luna how to sing himself. 

Ravus' lips furrowed, just slightly. "After this evening, we've had a large increase in season passes. It does appear the Lucii's new direction was a successful gamble. 

Noct was thankfully spared from answering by a courier stepping up with the bouquet he'd ordered express. He signed off, and took them in hand. "Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me." Without offering why, he left them behind - towards the crowd waiting by the door to the change rooms. 

"It would appear they've met before," Loqi muttered in his wake. 

He reached the small crowd, just in time to hear a young dancer explain: "Luna Freya has gone home for the evening. Sorry, you won't be able to speak with her tonight." 

She swept away the crowd, but Noct lingered - and slipped into the corridor. 

He caught up with a stagehand who was carrying costumes over one arm to the wheeled clothes rack. 

"Excuse me," he said politely. 

She glared at him. "You're not supposed to be back here. Staff only." 

Time to name drop. "Noctis Lucis Caelum, Executive Producer at Lucii Arts." It was mostly a ceremonial title, but... 

Her expression eased slightly - but remained suspicious. "And?" 

He lifted the bouquet to draw attention to their presence. "I was hoping you might leave this in Ms Freya's room for me - I've been told she's left for the evening already." 

Now the stagehand just looked annoyed. "As if I don't have enough to do?" he scoffed in dismissal. "Her dressing room is this way. You can leave them in there." 

Well, that worked. "If that's permitted." 

She rebuffed all his attempts at small talk with unimpressed grunts. The door she led him to was painted a soft pink, with a name plate declaring it the 'Lead Female - Dressing Room', with a newer bar bearing the name of Luna Freya. 

Inside, he could hear soft music from a small speaker. Clearly a demo track, with midi instruments. A simple, gentle tune - rising and falling like a lullaby. 

The stagehand knocked loudly. "Costume collection!" 

And to Noct's surprise, a gentle voice replied: "come in!" 

He followed the stagehand in, and there she was. Dressed in an oversized knitted jumper and a pair of worn leggings, she was just as radiant as she had been on the stage. Her hair, pale golden blond (it hadn't been a wig after all) was skewered up out of her face as she used wipes to take off thick stage make-up. 

"Thanks, Crowe," she said, her voice sweet and kind. "I hung them up there on that rack." 

"Thanks Luna. You have no idea how often I find costumes wrinkling on the floor." The stagehand, Crowe apparently, headed to grab the costumes. "Oh, you’ve got a guest by the way." 

Noct seemed to realise he was just standing in the doorway dumbly. He stepped in. "Flowers," he offered. 

"Sylleblossoms!" She said in delight. 

Crowe glared at him as she left with the costumes - rather pointedly leaving the door open behind her. 

He nodded, awkwardly walking over to her vanity table. "Like the kind we sewed our crowns from." 

Her lips parted in a delighted smile. "Dear Noctis! I thought it must be you." She stood and embraced him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She gently took the flowers from him and inhaled with a wistful smile. "They're beautiful." 

"You were wonderful," he complimented. "Tonight, on the stage. Your Mother must be so proud." 

She looked touched by that, if a little sad. "You are still so sweet." 

"I've missed you," he said softly. "Can I take you to a late dinner? I want to talk about everything we've missed." 

Her smile was patient and apologetic. "Not tonight. I have a show again tomorrow, and directors’ notes in the afternoon. I would like to go home and rest." 

He nodded quickly. "Well, I'll walk you to the station if that's okay? I just have to make sure my friend gets safely in the car home." 

She looked conflicted for a moment, but nodded. "Very well. As long as you make it quick. I don't want to miss my train." 

He grinned and nodded. "Of course. I'll be back in five minutes." 

He rushed to find Ignis, who was making small talk with the choral director. He seemed relieved by Noct's return, and his excusing them both to leave. He did seem unimpressed by the news Noct was chasing skirts instead of heading home, but dismissed him. 

"I am perfectly capable of seeing myself home, Noct. Enjoy your evening with Ms Freya. Send her my compliments for the part tonight." 

He hurried back to the dressing room - ten minutes later instead of his promised five. But when he tried the door it was locked. He frowned and knocked. 

The same gentle song she had been playing earlier was blaring now, almost loud enough to drown out his knocks. 

He pressed his ear to the door and caught the sound of voices - Luna's, soothing and apologetic; and someone else's, unknown to him, upset and agitated. 

"...go with him!" The stranger snapped, and said something quieter that the music drowned out. 

"Really, Angel," Luna replied, disapproving. "He is an old childhood friend." 

"He could be anyone! You would put yourself in danger just because..." And the stranger, who Luna called 'Angel', was drowned out by a swell of music. 

Noct jiggled the handle roughly, knocked louder. "Luna! Are you okay in there?" 

The music was turned up, the robotic notes almost hurting his ears. 

"Luna, open the door!" he called. 

"Angel!" Luna said tersely, and that was the last he heard of anyone in there. 

He rushed to find Crowe, and insisting to her that there was someone in Luna's dressing room arguing with her, managed to convince her to use the skeleton key to unlock the door. (She used a hand-held tablet device to do it, but same thing.) 

When he burst in, the room was empty. Crowe turned the little music dock off, and the painful noise stopped. She checked the bathroom and came out to give him an unimpressed, suspicious look. 

"She's already gone home. She probably just left the speakers on." 

"She was with someone. I heard him bothering her." 

"Mr Caelum, the only person I know bothering our performers is you. Now, please leave before I call security and have you removed." 

He left, but he couldn't stop the anxious feeling in his stomach. He downloaded this OG app thing using his father's invite code and used the staff directory to send a message with it to Lunafreya. 

  
(Noctis,L.C.)

Are you okay? I heard you arguing in your room, and then you disappeared. 

Her status remained off-site, and the message stayed unread. 

  
~*~

(Unknown) 

Don't worry about Luna Freya. She is being well protected. DO NOT harass any member of staff again. - Admin. 

~*~ 

Luna stirred awake, frowning slightly. Nearby, she could hear the gentle tinkling of a music box, playing a long-familiar tune. But beyond that, there was another sound. A set of notes, a phrase of music. Played on electronic instruments. The same piece of music, over and over, with a single note playing differently each time. 

A brief smile tugged at her lips, and she sat up to close the music box. Her Angel was composing again. She paused, looking at the box a moment. It was clearly old, but tended to tenderly. The spinning bird was worn down but freshly painted with vibrant yellow paint. The wood was chipped and splintered but freshly polished and lacquered. Silver shining brightly with buffing. 

She gently closed the lid, sealing it up as a brilliantly painted egg. 

Stretching carefully, she stood. Last night seemed like such a dream. Passing through the mirror of the dressing room, through secret tunnels beneath the opera house, across an underground lake of mist, and upon a tiny cottage of a house buried deep beneath the opera house. 

Angel had seemed so shy, so awkward to have her in his house - he must've offered her water about a dozen times, but eventually, she'd settled into his living room and he'd played one of his latest songs to her. 

She must've fallen asleep. But how had she woken up here? She found it hard to believe her Angel had carried her - he looked skinny and half-starved. 

She headed out of the bedroom and followed the sound to locate where he'd gone. 

He was at an elaborate computer set up. Several screens flashed between different security feeds around the theatre - mostly picking up the cleaning crew on their daily rounds. 

The screen level with her Angel's eyes showed an unfamiliar digital music program - one he'd designed himself she suspected. He was clicking the notes on a single bar around and playing it over with each phrase. 

"Good morning," she called. 

He probably didn't hear her - he didn't react to her voice whatsoever. The mess of yellow-blond hair not even shifting away from hiss clicking. 

She approached him to touch his shoulder, alert him to her presence. She noticed too late as her hand made contact - his green mask was sitting on the desk beside the keyboard, a leather glove beside it. 

Several things happened in an instant - she caught sight of a robotic hand on the mouse; he flinched away from the unexpected touch in a violent movement; his other hand landing on the computer keyboard mashing a discordant cacophony of noise. Then his head turned to face her, and she couldn't help the shocked little scream that escaped her lips at what she saw looking up at her. 

"No!" He shrieked. He stood swiftly, yanking away from her. His hands fumbled for the mask. "No! No, no, no! You were never supposed to see!" He shoved the green mask onto his face, replacing the view beneath with a mimicry of human features. "Oh, Luna, why?" He whimpered, his voice breaking. "It's ruined now, all ruined. You'll never be free." 

She stepped back, swallowing shakily. Did he mean she was his prisoner now? Some bizarre Beauty and the Beast kind of deal? 

"Forever and every day, you'll never escape it. Stuck forever." He babbled, clenching the bare hand at his side. 

She stepped forward, taking a deep breath to take a stand. 

But he flinched away from her movement, posture curling around itself protectively. "Now you've seen it," he whispered, voice breaking, "no matter how far you run, it will always haunt you." 

She felt the swell of defiant anger deflate as she realised what his desperate tirade had actually meant. Softening into pity. "Oh, Angel." 

"Don't!" He snarled. "Don't call me that now. Now you know it's a lie." 

"But you've never told me your name," she pointed out. 

"A monster needs no name," he hissed - almost as if he was quoting something he'd been told many times. 

Both their eyes flicked to a screen as the Artistic Director's office lit up, the two of them arriving to start the day. 

He grabbed his glove and pulled it on his hand. "We better get you back. You have a show tonight." 


	5. Admin's Notes

"What do you mean Luna Freya never made it home last night?" Ravus demanded, turning on Loqi with an icy look. 

"Just some staff gossip," Loqi answered, surprised by his co-director's sudden shift. "She is in a share house with some of the ballet dancers. They said her bed wasn't slept in last night." 

"Then where was she?" Ravus barked. 

Loqi grinned, eager to share his gossip. "Well, some of them saw a gentleman slip into the corridor for the dressing rooms with a large bouquet of flowers." He leaned closer. "Ms Cindy Aurum claims it was Noctis Lucis Caelum himself." 

While the younger was expecting him to laugh, or at least enjoy the gossip, the snarl of anger shocked him. 

"Him?" 

There was a chime from the tablets on their desks. Frowning at the irritating interruption. He swept it up. There was some sort of report from a stagehand he dismissed, unread, and opened the recent notification. 

  
(Unknown)

Mr Tummelt & Mr N. Fleuret, 

Congratulations of your successful opening night, in hopes that it is a sign of things to come. Ms Freya enjoyed a great success; may she continue to enjoy such career opportunities in future. 

Otherwise- the chorus was entrancing but it may be wise to advise the ballet director to work harder on the first act piece. 

Please note: The fee for the App development and maintenance has not been paid. To avoid any disruption in services, please arrange full payment at your earliest convinience. - Admin. 

Loqi riled in offence. "Are you reading this?" He demanded. 

"Ms Altius' report on Mr Caelum's harassing and disrupting our staff?" Ravus asked, glancing up from his screen. 

"What? No!" He huffed. "The message from Admin!" 

Ravus grunted, typed out a quick message, then opened the note in question. 

Once Loqi was certain he'd finished, he snapped: "Who would have the gall? To tell us how to do our job and then demand money!" 

"Who the hell is this administrator, anyway?" Ravus growled, irritated. "It is not amusing." 

"And the size of the fee! We really should hire someone cheaper." 

"Or at least re-negotiate," Ravus agreed. 

They were interrupted by their tablets - an intercom message. "Sir? Crowe Altius is here at your request." 

"Let her in," Ravus said, shoving the tablet aside and watching the door. 

Loqi eyed the young woman. She's probably be pretty if she put some effort in. What was she even doing here? 

"Have a seat," Ravus instructed. 

She raised her eyebrows and sat in the chair. "What's this about? I am on the clock, you know." 

"We are aware. This is in regard to the incident report you sent," Ravus answered. 

The what? Loqi shot his co-worker a look. It went ignored. 

"Right," she said, sounding very unimpressed. "Well, I said everything in the report. If you're planning to gag me from making a scandal, you should know I don't care about Mr Lucis-whoever enough to bother." 

Ravus' lips turned down in disapproval. "Merely some clarifying questions, Ms Altius." 

"Fine," she grunted, clearly irritable. "Ask them." 

"You said Mr Caelum was claiming there was a voice inside Lunafreya's room." 

Loqi looked away, bored. So, Ravus was weirdly possessive about their new Prima Donna. And he kept slurring her names together as if it was one word - so irritating. 

"Yeah, some excuse to get into her room. He was already trespassing to bother her. Probably planning something creepy." 

Ravus looked cool and unimpressed. "Quite." His frown deepened, just a little more. "And you paid no credence whatsoever to his claim there was someone in there, arguing with her?" 

"Enough I let him go to check it out. But like I said in the report. Nobody was in there. Not even Luna. Just her stereo playing." 

Ravus looked at her seriously. "You may have heard the rumours that Lunafreya did not return to her home last night." 

Concern wrinkled Ms Altius' face for a moment. Then it smoothed out. "She probably got a hotel for the night. But if she does turn up missing, the first person I'd be looking at is that Caelum guy. There was no other person in the room, but he was pretty pushy about getting to her." 

Ravus only scowled. "Very well. You may return to your work." 

She snorted. "Oh gee, thanks so much for your permission." Then she strode out. 

Loqi quite liked her. 

He turned to his co-director. "A scandal. Well, they did say a theatre would be full of scandal." He gave a sarcastic look. "What should we do then, Fleuret? rag Caelum in here and interrogate him about our diva's whereabouts?" 

Before Ravus could answer, the intercom sprung to life again: "A Mister Noctis Lucis Caelum to see you, sir." 

"The scandal deepens!" Loqi laughed. "Let him in." 

Noctis pushed in, looking agitated. "Where is she?" 

That was shot accusingly at Ravus. 

"Seems like I should be asking you that," Ravus spat back. 

Huh. Maybe they had history. 

"- and I don't appreciate the implications of this text you sent me!" 

There was a short silence. Then, beyond curious, Loqi spoke up - "what text?" 

Caelum shot him a glare, as if scolding him for interrupting. (In his own offfice, no less!) Then yanked his phone out. "From your theatre's stupid OG app you sent." 

Loqi took a glance curiously as Caelum thrust it at Ravus. 

"That," Ravus declared, his jaw setting, "was not sent by me. And I think you can see one obvious reason why not." 

Loqi was really enjoying this scandal. "The Administrator again." 

"If you two didn't write it, then who did?" Caelum demanded. 

"That is something I would like to discover as well." Ravus sounded far too serious. 

Surely these two weren't taking this fake disappearance or real, were they? 

"Gladio to see-" the intercom didn't finish before the door was thrust open and the burly Stage Manager pushed in. 

"Really," Loqi said, unamused. "It is polite to wait for permission to enter." 

"Since you all seem so bothered about the cast members," Gladio grunted, "I thought you ought to know that Luna Freya has signed in for the day." 

Ravus stood. "Very well. Then I declare this meeting as adjourned." 

Loqi gave a confused look at his co-director. 

Caelum barely paid attention to either of them. He turned to Gladio. "I need to see her." 

The burley Stage Manager glared at him. "Aren't you the one Crowe reported about? The guy harassing Ms Freya?" 

Loqi tried not to laugh as Caelum's face flushed in answer. 

Then his eyes narrowed at Gladiolus. "So, you're this Admin person." 

Gladio just gave a flat, crushing "no." 

Ravus straightened his suit. "Where, precisely, is she now?" 

"Getting notes from the director and warm ups like she’s supposed to do when she comes in." There was something barbed about that Loqi suspected was in the manager's direction, but Loqi couldn’t possibly imagine what that was. 

"I will need to speak to her as soon as possible regarding this report Ms Altius lodged." Ravus said firmly. "I will wait for her near the dressing rooms to have a private discussion." 

Gladio looked irritated, but didn't comment. Instead he turned his attention to Caelum. "Can I escort you to the front entrance, sir?" 

Well, who needed security when the Stage manager did that enough? Caelum was escorted out and the brute left. 

Loqi turned to speak to Ravus, but his co-director was standing ready to leave. 

He huffed and turned back to his paperwork. Well, he'd choose the new opera himself then. Maybe Il Muto... 

  
~*~   


Luna was unsurprised to see Ravus waiting outside the door of her dressing room. She raised her eyebrows as she shifted past him to open the door. "Ravus." 

"Where have you been?" He hissed. 

"At warm-ups," she replied coolly. 

He grabbed her wrist tightly. "You know what I mean, Lunafreya. The whole company was talking about the fact you didn't make it home last night!" 

She yanked her arm free and opened the door. "It's none of their business, nor yours." She sat down firmly at the seat of her vanity and turned the light on. 

"Except, there's a report about a fan harassing you, and rumours of you having an argument in your room until you disappear into thin air." 

"Oh don't exaggerate." Trying to prove he was beneath her attention, she got out a pot of moisturising cream to prime her face. "Not that it is any of your business, Dr Fleuret," she answered coolly. "But I spent the evening with an old friend." 

"Whom?" He demanded. "And don't try to tell me it was Noctis - he's been in my office demanding to know where you are." 

Damn. She'd hoped those rumours would combine and sort themselves out. "As I said, it is none of your business." 

"I am your brother!" 

"Not any more you aren't. Not after the way you treated me after what happened to Mother," she said coolly. 

"I was trying to protect you!" 

She turned to him, eyes flashing in fury. "I will not live in a cage." 

A stunned silence followed her outburst. 

Then she turned back to the vanity. "Now, Doctor Fleuret, if you would excuse yourself? I must prepare for the performance tonight." 

With a haughty expression, he strode out - slamming the door loudly in his wake. Luna glared at the closed wood for a long moment. 

Then there was a slow clapping behind her. "Brava." 

She whirled around, startled. That was not her Angel! 

Aranea stood in the doorway to the bathroom, a make-up bag tucked under one arm. "Relax. I stopped by to collect some personals from the dressing room. Logged it in OG and Everything.” 

Luna exhaled forcefully and turned back to her make-up preparations. "Of course. It will be your dressing room again soon enough." 

Aranea snorted. "True. I wouldn't get comfortable. But you enjoy the run. Never did like L'Oracle anyway." She crossed to the coat rack, putting the make-up bag into her handbag. "You should be careful, though." 

"...careful?" She echoed, suspicious. Was this a threat? 

"About your old friend," Aranea hinted. 

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," she answered coolly. 

The former lead nodded to the large full-length mirror across the room. "It's a two-way mirror, isn't it?" 

Luna started in surprise. How did she...? "I don't know what you're -" 

"It's always looked funny in the dim lights," she interrupted. "And I've heard movement behind there." 

"That's -" 

Aranea interrupted. "You should find out what happened to Caligo. Oh, and always get undressed in the bathroom.” 

"Caligo?" Se repeated, confused. 

"Caligo Uldor. He was a lead here, back when I first started. It's really in your best interest to look him up." Aranea swept her handbag onto her shoulder. "Well, show tonight. Break a leg!" She added with a smirk: "preferably not your own." 


	6. Disaster Beyond Your Reckoning

"Il Muto!" Ravus snapped. "Of all the awful, bawdry operas in the world -" 

"I like Il Muto," Loqi, practically a child, actually pouted. "Besides. We need to show not all opera is doom and gloom like L'Oracle." 

"But Il Muto." 

Their tablets buzzed. "Sirs? Ms Highwind here to see you." 

"Not now, tell her to book an appointment," Ravus snapped impatiently. 

There was a pause. Then "Ms Highwind says to check the box office for the morning." 

“Of all the!" With a growl, Ravus yanked up the damn tablet. Thought about throwing it in the damned bin. But instead he checked the morning's sales at the box office - and his eyes widened. 

"Show her in." 

Aranea Highwind entered smugly. "Good afternoon, gentlemen." 

Loqi narrowed his eyes. "I take it from your comment that this slip in sales has something to do with your actions." 

She smiled and settled into Loqi's seat, smirking. A power move indeed. "This morning I simply liked a tweet by The Imperial Opera Company that they were looking forward to an exciting casting announcement. Their sales have gone up 35% - how many season tickets have you refunded now?" 

Ravus only glared. "I would assume this little dramatic play has a purpose." 

She smiled in approval. "Imagine the disaster to your company if I publicly declared that I won't be renewing my contract. 

Loqi looked as if he was about to burst a blood vessel. "This is blackmail." 

She gave him a mean smile. "This is a negotiation." 

Ravus took his own seat and regarded her calmly. "Well then. Let us discuss your terms." 

"I am content to enjoy my sojourn while your little sister completes this run of L'Oracle. A little vacation is pleasant now and then. But in any future productions, I expect to be given my pick of the roles. 

"You can't just -" Loqi spluttered. 

"You can still continue this open audition charade if you desire - even give little Lunafreya the position of my understudy. But I **will** be given the roles I choose. And yes, I expect this to be written into my new contract. 

"And," Ravus answered, matching her tone, "you always happen to choose the female lead?" 

She smiled. One he recognised. The feeling of matching wits with someone on your level. "Il Muto, hm? I have always been drawn to the role of the countess." 

Ravus hummed. "And Lunafreya?" 

"Seraphino would be an excellent opportunity for an aspiring young woman." 

"The trouser role?" Loqi echoed. 

"The silent role." It was a very dramatic and symbolic move by an experienced Prima Donna. She stood and smiled. "I look forward to the announcement of the next round of auditions." 

Shaking Ravus' hand, she strode out. 

"What...just happened?" Loqi asked, bewildered. 

"We were outmatched." He leaned back in his seat with a frown. "You get your opera, she gets her limelight." 

"Oh." There was a short pause. "Did she call Ms Freya your little sister?" 

Idiot. "Shut up, Tummelt." 

  
~*~   


"Luna!" A voice called. Somehow familiar. 

She turned to see them jogging to catch up with her. "Dear Noctis," she said affectionately. 

"I've been trying to get ahold of you." He panted as he settled beside her in the bus stop. "I've been told to stop coming to the theatre." 

She sighed. "If it's Ravus feel free to ignore him, you're my friend." 

"It's not just Ravus," he murmured. There was something about his tone that made her wary. 

"Oh?" She prompted. 

"Crowe as well. And the Stage Manager." There was a pause, and then: "And this Administrator. For the OG app." 

She paled. Just slightly. But she knew Noctis caught it - because his eyes narrowed on her face in suspicion. 

"_Was_ it the man I heard arguing with you?" He demanded. 

She sighed. "He's very sheltered, and he worries about me. I have spoken to him about it, but I'll have another word." 

He huffed. "He warned me about harassing the staff." He sounded almost sulking about it. 

She bit down a smile. "Well. Crowe did file an incident report about you. He may have been following up about that." 

"It was sent at 1am in the morning. Doubt it." 

Oh, no. That had been when she'd fallen asleep. "I'll speak to him again." 

Noctis looked around them. "Are you going somewhere? Can I drive you?" 

She smiled. "I was just heading to the library. Looking up some old newspapers." 

"I'll take you, my Audi is parked nearby." 

She pursed her lips around an amused smile. "Noctis. Have you been following me?" 

"No! I was just driving Ignis to an appointment and I spotted you." 

She laughed softly. "Relax. I was teasing. I suppose you can join me at the library if you like. Though I'm afraid it might be terribly boring." 

"Nah, I'll be with you, it can't be boring." 

She felt flattered and oddly flustered by that. "You have always been very sweet, Noctis." 

They spoke as they drove, discussing everything and nothing. She kept noticing a wide smile on her face as they travelled. He even came around to open her door once they'd parked. 

They headed into the library and with the assistance of the search function, they had a few articles to look up where Caligo Uldor had been mentioned. The first lot were just critics - usually praising - talking about his various performances in opera. 

And then the latest revealed what Aranea must have been hinting about. 

"Tragic accident at the Opera," Noctis murmured, reading over her shoulder, "celebrated baritone Uldor wounded." 

She gently shushed him, reading the rest of the article with a racing pulse. A set piece dropping on Uldor, Police hadn't ruled out foul play - the baritone with a cracked spine, mentally disturbed. 

"Shit," Noctis mumbled. "Luna?" 

She closed out of the archive, looked up the online police report. The interview notes and report were thankfully public - the ropes had been in ill-repair, but forensics suggested there may have been a serated blade involved. The police rendered Caligo's testimony invalid - and it did almost read like a crazed man. The transcript was hard enough to read. 

He talked about a ghost living in the opera house, how it had been following him, taunting him. Leaving notes on his dressing room mirror, _I know what you did_ and _leave them alone_. He said the ghost had tried to kill him. 

The police had closed the case, calling it and accident. But Luna couldn't help but think... 

"You're shaking," Noct murmured, draping his jacket over her shoulders. "Luna?" 

She clutched it close. "I'm fine, Noctis. It's nothing..." 

"It doesn't seem like nothing. You look like you've seen a ghost." 

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. Then she grit her teeth and shook her head. "I'm fine. I think I'm ready to get out of here." 

He nodded, silent. They were quiet until he stopped at the stage door of the Fennestala. "Luna?" He asked quietly. "Why were you looking up Caligo Uldor?" 

She shivered. "It's just something Aranea was saying. You don't have to worry about it.” 

He frowned a little, his brows wrinkled in concern. "I'm worried because you're upset. All I want..." He paused, and stepped closer to gently hold her shoulders in steady hands. "All I've ever wanted was to keep you safe." 

She couldn't help something warm blooming in her chest. "I'm not in danger, Dear Noctis. But I do appreciate the sentiment." She leaned forward to embrace him, and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

When she pulled away, he was smiling widely. "I know you've got a show tonight, but can I take you out for dinner after? Or...gelato?" 

She smiled faintly and nodded. "Alright. Meet me at the stage door?" 

He practically beamed and nodded. "I will. I'll wait for you, Luna." 

She squeezed his hand softly and turned back inside. But she felt a shiver down her spine. Why did she have a bad feeling? 

  
~*~

(Unknown) 

This is your final notice in regard to your late payment of the fee for the maintenance of the Opera Generals App. 

If you do not pay the outstanding amount, service will be suspended. 

\- Admin. 

~*~ 

"And welcome to our auditions for Il Muto!" Loqi declared eagerly. "Something light to prepare for while we finish our run for L'Oracle." 

"We will begin," Ravus said, and he had no sense of showmanship whatsoever, "with the role of the countess. Ms Highwind?" 

"Please, show us how it's done," Loqi said with an encouraging grin, nodding to the standing mic. 

She smirked and took her place, into the spotlight. "_Poor fool, he makes me laugh_," she began, and followed it with the delightful operatic trill of a laugh - "_time I tried to get a better, better half_." 

"_Poor fool he doesn't know_," she continued and began the next trill, "_if he knew the truth he'd never ever go_." 

And then the entire theatre was plunged into darkness. 

Loqi's temper exploded. "What is this unprofessional nonsense! Mr Amicitia!" 

"Dustin?" Gladio answered. 

"I didn't touch anything, it must be a system error," that was the lighting technician he assumed. 

"Put the floods on, and get up to the box." There was some shuffling around backstage, flashlights moving back and forth. Then the harsh fluorescent lights came on, causing Loqi to wince. 

"I'm so sorry, Ms Highwind," Loqi soothed. 

"If you would begin again?" Ravus asked, sounding impatient. 

She nodded. "_Poor fool he makes me laugh_ -" and then as she began the trill, there was an awkward squeal of feedback. It continued as she sung again, and then she yanked out the cord. 

"What is this insolence?" Loqi roared at the gathered employees. "Ladies and gentlemen -" 

"It's the OG app, sir," Gladiolus said - his voice at a disapproving growl. "Service has been suspended, due to non-payment." 

"So what?" Loqi snapped. "So, our employees don't get to text each other." 

Gladiolus' nostrils flared. "I have previously informed you that the entire theatre runs using the app. Everything from light and sound to salary." 

"Absolutely preposterous!" Loqi snapped. "We will discuss this later. Let us continue with the auditions." 

"You've done splendidly, Ms Highwind," Ravus said. "Next we have Ms Luna Freya." 

The young slip of a blonde stepped up towards the microphone stand. But before she began, there was an awful noise and a large set piece from L'Oracle came crashing down. 

Beneath the frightened shrieks was a bellow of pain. Loqi jumped up to the stage, "move aside, move aside!" 

And there was Mr Ostium, one leg pinned beneath the set piece. 

"Mr Sophair!" Ravus barked furiously. "What is going on here?" 

"I'm checking, hold your horses!" The cantankerous Fly-Master snapped back. Then he snapped. "Hey you, kid! What are you doing in here?" Then a "Blast it." 

"Cid!" Gladio snapped. 

"Six this thing is heavy," Cid grunted, and then the piece slowly raised up. Enough for the stagehands to pull Ostium out. 

Ravus wisely sent everyone away. "Tonight’s performance will be cancelled until our technical issues are resolved," he answered. "Unfortunate accident, I know." 

Loqi followed his co-director's gaze as Luna Freya, pale and trembling, rushed out. 

Soon, there was only the skeleton backstage staff around. Loqi looked at Cid in fury. "What caused this disaster?" 

"You idjits stopped paying for our digital maintenance. The set piece was too heavy for the old gears and there weren't enough sandbags." Cid hocked and spat. "Lucky if you don't get sued." 

"You said something about a kid," Loqi said suspiciously. 

"What? I ain't said a damn thing," the old bastard replied. "Now I gotta go do a full check on all our flys." And then strode off without their permission to leave. 

How rude. He turned to Ravus, only to find he had walked away too. 

Great, now he had to figure out all the paperwork. 


	7. A New Season

Champagne popped. A hired chamber orchestra played a lively triumphant tune. About the decorated lobby, persons in formalwear milled about to laugh and talk. 

Luna stood off to the side with Noctis, her arm in his, smiling and thanking the people that passed by the, to compliment her. 

Ravus summoned the room's attention, tinkling a glass with a golden spoon. "Ladies, gentlemen, honoured guests," he greeted. "Welcome to our celebration of a new season. May we have as much success this year as we had in the last. This year we also celebrate the launch our new Theatre Management App, designed and maintained by MagiTek Industries." 

He paused there for applause, but none came. Most of tem preferred and missed the OG App, which hadn't been recovered. Their Stage Manager, Gladio Amicitia, had attempted to engage the developers for the technical staff only, but had ben unable to get return contact. 

The MT app, was glitchy, and only management and technical staff had access to the app. 

Loqi stepped in to fill the awkward silence. "And congratulations to our two wonderful leading ladies!" He raised his gladd to first Aranea, and then Luna. "The new Lady Aldercapt will bless us with her final season of professional opera, beore taking her place at the political seat of Niflheim with her new husband. And Miss Luna Freya, who has recently announced her engagement to Lucii Arts' very own Noctis Lucis Caelum." 

She inclined her head politely to the light applause. 

"As for the line up of our new season, Mr Tummelt and I are pleased to announce -" 

There was an awful feedback noise, and then all the lights plunged out. A projector flickered to life, and a green mask with human features shined onto different walls. 

"Thank you for my introduction, Dr Fleuret, Mister Tummelt." The green mouth moved in sync to the words. 

Luna gasped and shifted one trembling hand down to squeeze Noct's tightly. "It's him," she whispered. She knew that voice, that mask. 

"My dear friends and honoured guests. It is an honour to finally have an introduction. I know many of you very well, and have had the pleasure of watching over you for twenty-some years. You would know me solely as your former Administrator through the OG application." 

Noct's hand squeezed hers back tightly. "Should we leave?" He murmured. 

She shook her head. No, she doubted he would even allow it. 

"With the decision of your management to cease our working relationship, it has granted me time in pursuit of another passion." 

There was a pause and many phones and other tech items chimed. A few people fumbled to take out their devices. Luna glanced at Noct's screen, where he had a notification from the OG app that he had beeen granted access to a hared folder. Electric Sheep. 

"You have received my magnum opus, an original opera produced entirely for the Fenestala Opera Company. It is my honour to announce it as the opening production of the new season." 

Luna glanced up at Ravus, to see if he knew about this - but he was barely concealing his anger. 

The mask shifted into a smile. "I look forward to seeing our collaboratio at work. I remain, dear friends, your obedient friend and guardian." 

And then the projection flickered out and the lights turned back up. 

The guests laughed and applauded, congratulating them on the exciting and dramatic new announcement for a modern new opera. Loqi was happy to lap up the attention, however undeserving. Ravus merely looked cool and reserved. 

Noctis squeezed her arm. "Stay here with Iris and Specs. I have to speak with someone." 

  
~*~  


Gladio stepped through a door, and Noct sped after him. He was surprised to see a crowded office instead of a bathroom. 

The broad owner was settling into the seat on the other side of the desk. "If you're going to interrogate me, it's going to be over a good whiskey." He got a dusty old bottle out from a drawer and two glasses. 

"You're expecting me?" Noct asked suspiciously as he took the other seat. 

"Maybe not you specifically. But I thought I'd be having this conversation before too long." He offered out a glass with couple of fingers of amber liquid. 

"You know this guy? This OG Administrator," he accused. 

"Sorta," Gladio threw bath a mouthful of drink and then glared at him over the rim of the glass. "Ask then." 

"You know him. This... admin guy." 

Gladio grunted. Sat back. "I've never met him," he answered. "But I know about him. More than anyone else." 

Noct sipped his drink and it burned as it went down. "So?" 

"My Dad owned the theatre before me," he explained. "I only really know what he's told me." 

"Tell me," Noct demanded. 

"What do you plan on doing, exactly?" Gladio asked, watching eyes almost the same colour as the whiskey. 

"He can't just...hang around, threatening people and dropping set pieces on people!" Noct spluttered. 

"Kinds self-righteous, aren't you?" Gladio grunted. He sat back. "The kid didn't drop a set piece on Lib. If Cid was right, he was trying to tie sandbags on everything he hadn't." 

Noct's eyes narrowed. "And what about Caligo Uldor?" He demanded. 

Gladio leaned back, his expression growing dark and serious. "Uldor..." He sighed heavily. "I was a kid myself then. But I remember my Father..." He drained the rest of the glass. "Well, he said that sick bastard deserved it, and he wished that the set had landed on his head." 

"That doesn't excuse -" 

"He would've been - six? Seven years old? You telling me you had a complex understanding of morality at six?" 

"I knew killing people was wrong," he answered defensively. 

"And what if you had no parents? And if you lived under an opera house and you always saw the brave hero step up to defeat the villain and get applauded for it?" 

Noct scowled, and settled back in his seat. "It's not an excuse." 

"Fine, report him for juvenile assault," Gladio grunted. 

"And what about blackmail? Intimidation? Breaking and entering? Trespassing? Illegal surveillance? Tax Fraud?" 

He sighed. "Are you just pissy because he's in love with your fiancée?" 

"I'm offended that he's stalking my friend and fiancée," Noct snapped back. "She said he came through a two-way mirror into her _dressing room_." 

"And you think that means he's been stalking her?" Gladio grunted. He refilled his glass and capped the bottle. "Did you want to hear what I know or not?" 

Noct huffed in irritation. "Fine." He set his cup down and watched the stage Manager." 

Gladio shifted in his seat, getting comfortable. "My father said the kid sort of appeared around the theatre - barely a kid, really. Far too young to be left on his own." He swirled the amber liquid around the glass. "Tried to invite him to come home with us, but the kid said he had to stay there. His Father had told him to stay." 

He frowned. Part of him wanted to feel sorry for the Admin guy - but he pushed that instinct away forcefully. 

"He...and me, I guess. We bring him food, medical care a couple times he needed it." He sighed. "When he was younger, he'd play pranks. They...stopped, after the Caligo incident. And then after a few years the OG App launched." 

"And he used it to terrorize management and Aranea," Noctis snapped. 

"I wouldn't call it terrorizing," Gladio grunted. "Just like...more pranks." 

"We can't let him go on like this," Noctis said firmly. 

Gladio finished his drink and put the bottle away. "Well you won't get any help from me." 

  
~*~  


"Ludicrous!" Ravus snapped as he paced the space between their desks. "Have you looked at the score? Simply ludicrous." 

"Well, you know my views," Loqi said, watching him pace with a sort of amusement. 

"Utter lunacy," Ravus muttered. 

"We can hardly refuse. His little stunt has sent our ticket sales skyrocketing - pre-sales on this...mystery opera sold out for three whole performances." Loqi pointed out. "He's already done half our work for us. Casting, stage design, lighting and props, costume notes. We don't have to pay royalties, so if we stage it cheap we can maximize profits." 

"Loqi, while I usually applaud your love of money, we are talking about cowing to the demands of a con-man who terrorized our theatre to extort us out of thousands of gil. Not to mention injuring one of our lead performers the morning before a performance!" 

"Well do you have any better ideas?" Loqi demanded. 

Ravus heaved a great sigh and dropped heavily onto his seat. Of course that was the moment the door burst open to submit a steaming Lady Aranea. 

"This whole affair is an outrage!" 

"Good morning to you too," Ravus drawled. 

"Now what's the matter?" Loqi tutted, impatient. 

"This messed up rip-off of Frakenstein," she tutted, tossing down the book. "Half these notes aren't even in harmony - and have you even looked at my part?" 

"If you are complaining about the number of lines..." 

"Mrs Obsidian is a heartless, screeching harpy who sells out the doctor and his creature simply for money!" She snapped. 

"Should fit you perfectly then," Ravus muttered, dropping a fizzing painkiller into his glass of water. 

"You promised me Madame Butterfly, Julietta, Christine Daee - one of the tragic greats to end my career. Not this - evil stepmother to an emotionless robot." 

Loqi gave an open-palmed shrug. "Why don't you discuss Mrs Obsidian's motivations with the composer?" 

There was a knock on the open doorway, and Loqi looked up to find Mr Noctis Lucis Caelum and Ms Luna Freya in the doorway. "Is this a bad time?" Noctis asked, indifferent to the answer as always. 

"No, this is a perfect time!" Aranea said sharply. "If it isn't our little star. Lunafreya, quite the lady of the hour." 

"Lady Aldercapt, please," Ravus said flatly. "Lunafreya. You've been awarded the role of Aminta, the lead female and love interest." 

"Luna Freya! She doesn't have the range for a complex role like Aminta!" Aranea barked cruelly. 

"Aranea, please," Ravus said irritably. 

"So I take it you two are agreeing," Noctis said, his voice a flat neutral. 

"It would seem our best choice," Ravus answered. "With that little publicity stunt, we were rather tied to it." 

Noctis cleared his throat. "Very well. In that case, Lucii Arts will cover the costs of production." 

Aranea let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, now I get it. This is all a big publicity stunt! Both of you are in on it! Lucii Arts becomes a producer, you are hired and then suddenly your sister and _your_ fiancée gets a lead role. But when I refuse to bend to your schemes you plan this publicity stunt to oust me!" 

"How dare you?" Luna demanded. Her voice was cold, insulted. "You vicious woman. This isn't some plot, a publicity stunt. I don't even want to be in this opera." 

The men in the room turned to her, shocked. "Ms Freya, the authors casting instructions were very clear. if you are not to star in this play, then there is to be no opera." Loqi was sure that would convince her, that she was hand-picked for the role. 

"Then that decides it," she said dismissively. "There will be no opera." 

Loqi gaped at her. "You can't just - you have a contract!" 

"Then you can sue me! I will break the contract, leave his opera house and all of its schemes and stunts behind." 

"Luna," Noctis said, putting a soothing hand on his fiancée's arm. "We discussed this - you don't have to. No one can make you." 

"If I may cut in." Loqi jumped, startling in his seat. On his screen, the green mask from the publicity stunt was just...there! "Perhaps we ought to include the author in these discussions." 

"How did you-?" Loqi yelped. 

Nobody responded to him. Instead everybody seemed intensely aware of his computer screen. 

"I will be observing during the preparations for my opera. I have left clear instructions, but should anybody have further clarification of queries I will make myself available for discussion." 

"Planning to visit, are you?" Noctis sneered. 

There was a long pause, then the mask moved again. "Worry not, Mr Lucis Caelum. I shall attend opening night of my opera. You can wait until then for your...introductions." 

Loqi tuned out as he bagan to discuss...casting and orchestration and all sorts of nonsense with Ravus. 

"I am confident in my casting choices, though I have alternates for most of the roles. The only non-negotiable role is that of Aminta. The role was written for Ms Luna Freya's voice, and I shall see no other in her stead." 

"And if I refuse?" Luna asked, her voice cool. 

The mask stayed idle and unmoving, as if her comment had not been heard. 

"And if she refuses?" Ravus asked. 

"Then there will be no opera at Fennestala this year." The comment was low, dangerous with warning. 

"We have other operas lined up!" Loqi spluttered in protest. 

"You may want to check the name used when purchasing performance rights," the voice loomed. "It appears they've been purchased for the Opera General's company. Which you no longer do business with." 

Loqi's eye twitched in irritation. "is this -" 

Ravus cut him off. "And I suppose if your opera if performed, the performance rights will find themselves conveniently transferred over to The Fenestala." 

"With no further input of your own," the mask answered. 

Loqi grit his teeth. Ravus looked sour. 

"Lady Highwind?" The mask addressed. 

The woman's lips were pursed. "Yes?" 

"Mrs Obsidian's role was written for your voice, your artistic range. But if you find yourself above it, I can offer the role to Miss Pryna." 

"Misss Pryna!" She repeated, nostrils flaring in outrage. "You think she can compare to me?" 

"I wouldn't want to compromise your artistic sensibilities," the mask said, a curl of amusement in its digitised voice. 

"Pryna can pry my role out of my cold, dead hands!" Aranea hissed furiously. 

"Well, I shall leave the minute details to you two gentlemen. If you need me, you need only ask." 

The mask vanished from the screen in a blink, leaving his desktop innocent of the horror it had been host to. 

"Gentlemen," Noctis said, something sly in his looks. "May I invite you to lunch? I have a particular idea for this opera that's best discussed away from prying ears." 


	8. Preparations

"If you would pay attention!" Biggs, their frustrated musical director, barked over the chatter. "Again, from the Hunter's Chorus." 

Aranea rolled her eyes from her seat in the front row. Of course they were finding it difficult - as if the opera wasn't confusing enough, the harmonies were discordant and irritating on the ear. Challenging, and with almost no reward. 

  
Track down this murderer, it must be found  
Track down this murderer, it must be found  
Hunt down this animal, who runs to ground  
Too long it's preyed on us, but now we know  
The Monster in the machine is here  
Deep down below  


"Cut, cut, cut!" Biggs snapped. "What was that round? You sounded like a tangled mess!" 

"This score is a tangled mess," one of the chorus members muttered. 

Aranea laughed behind her hand. They weren't exactly wrong about that. Though she had almost began to suspect it was purposeful. 

Some of the music was harmonious, smooth. But almost by rote. Those were the few pieces performed by the robot character. Anything by the humans had odd discordant moments - and the mobs were a non-harmonious mess. 

If she felt generous, she might call it social commentary. But her character had one solo and disappeared by the third act. So she was not feeling generous. 

"Chorus, you are dismissed! Practice your harmonies individually and come back to m tomorrow as professionals!" He checked his watch. "Pianist, take ten. Then we'll begin leads practice." 

Biggs and Wedge - the pianist - strode off together to likely complain about the score. Dr Ravus Fleuret had volunteered himself to direct the staging - probably to keep his precious sister safe from an imaginary threat. 

She sat back and took out her mobile to pass the time. She almost screamed when she spotted a green human-like mask floating over her shoulder in the dark screen of her phone. She whipped her head around and -he was there. Their masked menace himself. 

"Shh," he soothed. "I didn't mean to frighten you. I only came to discuss the role with you." 

She turned back around. Staring back at the stage. Seeing the human-like features that were just off made her skin crawl. 

"You know," she said, trying to sound conversational. "It's very bad mask etiquette to talk with your mouth covered." 

"I'll take that under advisement." Six, he sounded so Young. "You had some complaints about your role. I thought you might want to discuss her." 

Aranea seemed genuinely surprised. "What's to discuss? She gets jealous because her husband is paying attention to his creation and not her, so she rats him out." 

He hummed. "Is that how you read it?" 

She frowned. Tempted to turn back to him. "What else is there?" She challenged. 

"How you present her is, in the end, entirely up to you. I intended more complexity to her character." 

Well, six be damned. Now she was curious. "...go on." 

"I will admit, she is a selfish woman. She is much younger than Mr Obsidian, and she did it for the money and social position. It was how she was raised. But Obsidian was not how she hoped him to be. He has the money, the position - but he wastes it away on his experiments." He paused. "But, beyond that shallow desire, she wanted most a family, and a child of her own. It was an affront to her, to discover that he has discovered artificial life - an unnatural creature without a soul, when he would not give her a real child." 

She frowned. "This empty house he gave to me, filled with curs'd electric life, is this what he will give to me, his poor neglected wife." 

There was a soft agreeing hum, she suspected he was nodding in agreement. "She is also highly religious. She finds the artificial life and affront to the Six." 

She frowned at that. "Which is why she goes to the church with him I suppose." 

There was a slight pause. "With whom?" 

"The robot." 

"Oh. Yes. That's why she takes it to the church," he replied. 

She was quiet a moment. "Well, thank you Auteur. I'll take it under advisement." 

He gave a snickering sort of laugh that almost seemed to fade out. When she glanced behind her, the seat was empty. 

  
~*~  


"Ms Freya. Thank you for joining us," Biggs said, nodding to her. "We will begin with Twisted Every Way, while we have Libertus with us." 

She nodded. It was also one of her least favourite songs, she wouldn't mind getting it over and done with. She stood by the piano. 

  
Raoul, I'm frightened—  
Don't make me do this  
Raoul, it scares me—  
Don't put me through this ordeal by fire  
It will take me, I know  
We'll be parted forever  
It won't let me go  
What I once used to dream, I now dread  
If It finds me, it won't ever end  
It will always be there, singing songs in my head  
Always be there, singing songs in my head  


She couldn't help but feeling that sensation at the back of her head that someone was watching her. 

You said yourself—he was nothing but a machine  
Yet while it lives, it will haunt us 'til we're dead

Surprisingly, Libertus wasn't as emotional as she had seen him in the past. He seemed to have real problems connecting to the role. 

  
Twisted every way, what answer can I give?  
Should I risk my life to win the chance to live?  
Can I betray the man, to kill his final voice?  
Do I become It's prey? Do I have any choice?  
It kills without a thought, can't tell bad from good.  
I know I can't refuse, and yet, I wish I could  
Oh Six, if I agree, what horrors wait for me  
In this, the final showdown?

Sweet Aminta, don't think that I don't care  
But every hope, and every prayer rests on you now 

"Hm," Biggs said quietly. "You are, at least, note-perfect." He frowned. "Lib, I've come to expect better of you." 

Libertus, most noticeable, only shrugged. "Should we run it again?" 

Biggs just sighed. "I do not enjoy banging my head against a brick wall. Go home try and get in touch with Raoul. Reach out to the composer, if you wish." 

"Reach out to the guy who dropped a set piece on me, right," Lib answered sourly. He grabbed up his bag, muttered a 'later' and left the room. 

Biggs just shook his head. "Apologies, Ms Freya. Shall we begin with Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again?" 

This song wasn't so bad. It was perhaps the only song of hers in the opera that didn't feel so targeted at her. The scene afterward, hit too close to home. 

~*~ 

It was quiet in the theatre. They'd had their first full run and she was hating it. In bits and pieces, the impact hadn't been so bad. She had been aware the opera was a semi-autobiographical piece. But it dug deep - wounded her. Made her feel genuinely awful about the way his life had been, and how he saw he had treated her. 

"Angel?" She called into the emptiness. 

The silence that followed was unsurprising, and familiar. Ever since the attack on Libertus, he'd been completely silent with her. The daily texts, well-wishes, or encouragements or the snippets of songs he was working on. All of that disappeared. It was like he was a ghost that had vanished - until he'd reappeared to declare his opera. 

Even now, different people mentioned that he had contacted them to discuss different aspects of their role, or design, or something. 

But he still continued to ignore her. She who had been his only friend. 

"Luna," Noct's voice startled her out of her thoughts, "you weren't in your dressing room." 

"Yeah. I was just...waiting. Trying to cool down." 

Noct sat down next to her on the stage edge. "What's up?" 

She sighed. "It's nothing, dear Noctis. it's just...this opera." 

"It's awful, isn't it?" He asked, pulling a face. "None of the characters are likeable, and the music just sounds off." 

"It's meant to be that way," she corrected softly. "I think it's beautiful. In a tragic sort of way." 

Noct shrugged. "I wouldn't say that." 

She sighed. "The Robot. It's tragic. His creator only views him as something to be admired and improved. Then his creator's widow abandon's him to die. Aminta is his only friend, but even she betrays him and gets him killed. Even as he lays dying, he sings to her and she refuses to sing along." 

"He killed the priest," Noct pointed out. "He's not exactly a person. It's just a machine built to mimic human emotions." 

Luna just sighed. Noctis wouldn't understand, probably wouldn't even care if he knew her Angel had written it about himself. That this opera was genuinely how he viewed the world, himself. 

"Let's head home," he offered. "We'll put on that movie you like and eat ice cream." 

"I can't have -" 

"Dairy. I know. That's why I got the vegan brand Iris swears by..." 


	9. The Opera

It was opening night. The dress rehearsal had gone disastrously. Exactly how it ought to. But now the audience was seated, everything was in place. Let his opera begin! 

He looked at the brochure in his hand. 

  
ACT 1

_A beautiful home in an exclusive part of town. The furnishings are run down. Upstairs is a comfortable siting room, downstairs is a white and sterile lab._

Dr Obsidian reveals his newest work to his neglected wife; and android of almost lifelike perfection. 

ACT 2 

_An Ancient revered church._

After Dr Obsidian's death, his wife takes his creation to the church to be cared for by the priest. Meanwhile, Aminta comes to mourn her recently deceased father. 

ACT 3 

_Five Years Later...The Church_

Aminta introduces her new fiancé to her secret friend at the church. Disaster strikes. 

ACT 4 

_The Church, Forest Beside_

The Townspeople hunt down the robot. Aminta is asked to lay a trap for it. 

Calmly he closed the program. it was time to begin. 

  
~*~

Help me say goodbye   
Help me say goodbye! 

Noct, smiled, standing and applauding Luna at the end of her fine aria. He settled back in is seat as it quietened down, smiling. 

The music changed to something soft and sweet. A mechanised voice began to sing. 

  
Wandering child, so lost, so helpless  
Yearning for some guidance

Luna whipped around and - wait, she was a good actress, but that was genuine fear on her face? 

She even missed a beat. 

  
Angel or Father, friend or phantom?  
Who do I hear singing?

Do not call me an angel... 

Please, oh Speak! Wht endless sadness   
Echoes in this whisper 

Too long your heart is in winter   
Lost from the fathering gaze 

Loudly my mind screams to fear you   
You escape my gaze 

Their twining phrases were drowned out by his pulse thudding in his ears as the robot crawled into view and he realised. They had engaged a puppeteer to operate the Robot - that was clearly a living actor. Coupled with Luna’s fear, he realised he recognized the voice. 

He'd heard it. In Luna's dressing room, over too-loud music. 

He gripped his walkie-talkie, and whispered into it: "Change of plan. Our target is on-stage, playing the Robot." 

He got a murmur of confirmation. 

He got to his feet, anxious. there was a moment on the stage - as they sung, they reached out to brush fingertips together. Luna's gloved hand against the mechanical prosthetic of the villain's. 

There was a loud crack of a gun, and a responding spark on the stage. The Robot's arm jolted, the joints flexing. Then he wrapped his spindly fingers around the gloved wrist. 

Luna was shrieking in horror, and as the music fell into chaos and the curtain fell, the audience seemed to realise it wasn't part of the show. Noct fought against the direction of the crown, trying not to get away from the stage, but towards it. He needed to get to Luna. 

A hand grabbed him out of the crowded hallways and into an office - the Stage Manager's, he recognised it. And it was Gladio Amicitia who was still tugging him. "This way." 

"I **need** to go to Luna!" he argued. 

"I know. And I know _where _he's taking her. And a way to get there nobody else knows." Gladio grunted. He heaved a great wooden bookcase stuffed with leather tomes - moved far enough to reveal a stone staircase plunging sharply down. "Hope you're not afraid of heights." 

The way down was dizzying - crumbling stone staircases in spirals without handrails, rickety metal walkways that swayed under their steps. They came to a final rusted ladder downward. 

"I have to go back. Iris was waiting for me. It's straight down from here." 

"Right." 

"I hope those shoes weren't expensive - they're about to get ruined." 

Amicitia was right. When he reached the bottom f the ladder, he was knee-deep in icy water. He slogged through the pool of water towards - was that a house? 

It was almost a cute little stone cottage. 

He stomped up steps and shouldered open the front door. "Luna!" 

"We've got a guest." A now-familiar voice muttered from a nearby room. He stomped forward and threw open the inner door. "Sir," said the kidnapper, "this is an unparalleled delight." 

"Noct!" Luna cried in surprise. She was knelt before the monster, most of her elaborate costume stripped down to a white petticoat and false corset. 

"Luna!" He said fiercely. 

"I'd hoped you would come," the monster continued, his still bowed head concealing his face. "And here you are. This really makes my night." 

"Let her go!" He snarled. 

"Your lover makes a passionate plea," he said to Luna. 

"Noctis, please. Calm down," She said. Her voice was surprisingly calm and firm. "Take a seat," she commanded. 

Surprised by her tone, he sunk into a nearby armchair - and what was happening between the two of them was revealed. 

"Be my guest," the kidnapper muttered sarcastically. Then he shoved a screwdriver between his teeth, delicate human fingers twisting and removing a screw from his own robotic limb. "Just a few more and the hydraulics should release. I'm sorry, Luna, does it still hurt?" 

"It's alright, Angel," she said gently. "Take your time." 

Noct watched as he continued to work at his inner workings. "Are...are you fully android or are those...prosthetic additions?" 

"I've never done a thorough examination," he answered. 

"Really, Angel," Luna said disapprovingly. "It's just this arm and -" 

"My demented, monstrous visage!" He laughed, turning to grab another smaller screwdriver. The light fell on the face in question. In places the skin was rubbed red from the pressure of the mask. in others it was red from his thin, pale skin. It was covered with a dusting of freckles. And then, the let side - a cheek bone and his eye replaced by shiny metal, and what looked to be a camera lens. 

The eye focused on him, and he flinched away, looking at Luna instead. 

"Almost got it," the...cyborg? said. "Then you can take Luna and get to safety." His eyes darted to a wall of screens showing police and theatre-workers and audience members were spilling into dank disused corridors. 

"What are they doing?" Noct asked. 

"Track down this murderer he must be found," the cyborg sung to himself, then hummed along with the rest of the Mob's chorus. 

"Exactly what you paid them to," Luna said sourly. "You ordered them to shoot him?" 

"He wasn't meant to be on-stage!" 

"You put Luna in danger," he said, matter-of-factly. "You should be ashamed of yourself." 

Aren't you going to curse on e for trying to hurt you?" Noct asked suspiciously. 

The human arm shrugged. "I always knew I was to be struck down by some hero, eventually." 

"Angel," Luna said, soft and gentle. 

"No, not that," he denied. Never that." 

"You still won't tell me your name," she responded. 

"You still assume I have one," he answered, matching her tone exactly. 

"You must've had one. What did your Mother call you?£ Noct huffed, unimpressed. 

"She never had time to," he answered focussed on is own prosthetics. "She didn't live long enough to." 

Shoving away the guilt, he pressed on. "And who told you that?" 

He hummed. "My Father, I suppose." He tapped his metal cheek. "Generous enough to give me these, when my own limbs failed." He picked p an even smaller screwdriver. "And brought me here, when it was too risky to stay in the real world." 

"My dear Angel," Luna said. Her sweet voice was thick with ters. "You didn't deserve that." 

"I'm a monster," he disagreed. 

"You were a child!" She protested "You were a child and you deserved to be loved and protected - not forced underground and abandoned to fend for yourself!" she pulled him close to press a kiss to his forehead. "The Six hold you in their hearts, as do I. My dear friend, my sweet Angel. I shall always be your friend and tender companion." 

He looked at her, in awe for a long moment. Then in a swift movement, he jammed the screwdriver into his wrist. Robotic fingers flexed and then fell limp and lifeless. 

Luna was free, her wrists badly bruised. 

The cyborg stood abruptly and moved away. "Take her and go," he hissed. "You remember the way back? Only Amicitias know that way. Unless Iris is leading a mob, you'll be safe." 

"Angel," Luna whispered. 

"No, never that." he pushed the door open, then paused. "Prompto." 

"Prompto?" Luna whispered. 

"My father called me that once." Another door, and he gave Luna a thick coat. "I'm sorry," he said to her. "Truly sorry." 

"Prompto." 

A shriek of an alarm started. Prompto pushed away and went to a computer. "Go now. Don't let them find you." He turned to eye them, lens focussing on them. "Tell them nothing, Luna. Let everything fall as it will." 

She wasn't moving. Noct grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the door. "Luna. Come on. We have to go." 

"But - " 

"Come on." He urged her out of the quaint little house, over to a boat tied by the stairs. "Luna. Come on..." 

She yanked away from him. "I'll - I'll only be a moment, Dear Noctis. Ready the boat." Then she turned and rushed back into the house. 

He untied the boat and waited, oars at the ready. 

She did return, shortly afterward, clutching a brightly painted egg in her hands. She stepped onto the boat, but wouldn't meet his eyes. 

The trip back to the opera house was strained and silent. 

~*~ 

_The Phantom of the Opera_

_A recent scandal rocked the Fennestala Opera House. Yet a civilian manhunt led to no discovery of the well-known perpetrator._

_Iris Amicitia speaks of the true affair of the recent events..._

_La Fin_


End file.
